


In His Shirt

by sbstevenson2



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Canon, F/M, FraserFluff, Post Season 5, Sexy Times, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbstevenson2/pseuds/sbstevenson2
Summary: Claire welcomes Jamie home after a long day on the ridge in nothing but his shirt... and he quite enjoys the sight before him ;)
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 26
Kudos: 153





	In His Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> This developed from my tweet about wanting to see Claire in Jamie's shirt and also a BTS picture of Cait in Claire costume with her skirt pulled up lol… really, this is just some fluff and smut just for the fun of it, so… enjoy! Haha
> 
> Thanks to my girls that gave me feedback on this one. Writing smut is not my favorite thing in the world so a little extra encouragement was nice while writing it lol… y'all rock!
> 
> {******************************}

**In His Shirt:**

It's been a long day.

Exhaustion doesn't even begin to cover what he is feeling.

His bones ache, weary down to his marrow. He rubs at the back of his neck, visions of the day fluttering through his mind.

A goat had broken through the fence, helping itself to Claire's herb garden that morning, and he'd had to repair it. Then he and his men had gone out hunting, trying to find another buffalo to supply the ridge with enough meat for the next few weeks, but all they'd lucked up on was a deer so far. It would have to do for now, though.

He'll send Fergus and Josiah out again tomorrow with some other men to try for more.

Sighing, he walks into their home, happy to finally be done building it. It was nice to come home and just be _home_ , not having to worry about what room needed more work done to it.

Looking up at the winding stair case, Jamie inhales deeply, preparing himself for the trek. His knees ache as he makes his way up, but knowing his Claire was already up there is motivation enough.

She'd gone upstairs moments before, telling him to take his time with saying goodnight to the wee grandkids, but all he wanted to do now was crawl into bed, wrap his arms around his wife, and drift off into a deep sleep.

Opening the door to their room, however, presents Jamie with a sight he's never seen before.

Claire. In nothing but _his_ shirt.

His white shirt he'd worn the day before, thank god he didn't get it too dirty, because she looks absolutely breathtaking in it right now, the white fabric resting against her pale skin.

Her legs are draped over the edge of the bed, a come hither look upon her face. Her long, gorgeous legs are on full display for him with how she sits, one foot twirling daintily as it hangs over the side of the bed beckoning him to her.

"Christ, Sassenach," he breathes, slipping his boots off faster than ever before.

She smirks, her eyebrows twitching up. Damn this beautiful woman. She knows exactly what she does to him.

Jamie sinks down on his knees, hands lifting to graze up the creamy flesh of her legs. He squeezes her calves simultaneously, while peppering kisses up her legs. "My," and he places a chaste kiss to the inside of one knee, "shirt?" he asks, bestowing the same treatment to the other.

Claire snickers, nodding as her hands come to rest upon his shoulders. "Figured I'd mix things up tonight. Sleep in your shirt instead."

A wolfish grin tugs the corner of his mouth because based on how she's looking at him, and the aroma of her favorite perfume wafting off of her and into his nose, he doesn't believe for a second her only intention was to sleep. She really is a rare woman, and thank Christ above, he is the luckiest man alive.

It's a magnificent sight, once that could rival the most pristine statues in all the churches of Scotland, and the fact that it's taken thirty years of marriage to see her like this is incomprehensible to him. He now thinks this is how she should have _always_ been sleeping.

"Och," he growls deeply, heatedly adding, "I dinna think ye'll be sleeping in anything tonight, _mo ghraidh_."

He leans in at that, licking up her neck before clamping his lips to her pulse point, lavishing his love there while his hands fiddle with the hem of the shirt. Feeling his shirt against her skin is a type of aphrodisiac he never knew existed.

He leans back on his haunches, hands wrapped around her calves again as he takes in the sight before her. Like a Greek goddess on full display for only him. Her nipples stand at attention, pressing against the thin fabric of his shirt. They seem to practically call him to her like a moth to a flame, and he's completely lost under her seductive spell.

_Tha feum agam oirre. A-nis._

His heart feels as if it will burst from his chest, but his hands savor the moment, palms trailing back up her legs slowly as he gives her _his_ best come-hither look.

Laughing, she rolls her eyes playfully, then takes the collar, bringing it to her nose and giving it a sniff. "Smells like you, too."

He grunts, a grin playing at the edge of his lips. "It canna smell verra good though… probably smells like grass and manure."

She laughs again, that breathy little thing that always sends a jolt right down to his cock. "I like the way you smell."

With that, she grabs at his shoulders, bringing him up to meet her lips fully.

He presses his lips to hers, tilting his head to get just the right angle as his tongue slips in. He draws a moan from her, and _shite,_ he loves the sound of that. Of her.

He's always been a weak man for the wee noises Claire makes.

His hands reach her shoulders, gently pushing so she leans back, resting on her elbows.

Christ. This woman.

He wants her so badly he can scarcely breathe, but he also wants to stare at the sight before him forever. Her, in his shirt.

There's something about it, a primal instinct perhaps, one that Claire would call him a brute for. But the vision of his clothing on her, so giant and all encompassing on her small frame, makes her look even smaller. Like she needs his protection, which she knows she already has, always, but… he can't explain it. She is _his_ , and this somehow solidifies it even more.

Jamie feels his cock twitch in his breeches, so he reaches down, stroking himself while Claire simply smirks.

Devil of a woman, she knows exactly what she's doing to him.

Her hands reach for the hem of the shirt she's wearing, and no, _no_ , that won't do. He wants to be the one to undress her.

"No, _mo chridhe_ ," he chastises lovingly, "let me."

She quirks a playful eyebrow again, shrugging one shoulder as she falls back on her elbows. She gives her hips a little wiggle, and _damn her_ , she is so beautiful. He loves when she's extra playful like this, teasing him, taunting him, yet giving him exactly what he wants and needs.

Grinning, he licks his lips as he steps closer to the bed. Claire's legs fall open, giving him room to stand between them. Her knees press into his outer thighs, and he sinks to his knees once more, tongue trailing a wet path up her leg.

He pushes the shirt up, worshipping each inch of skin that is revealed to him.

Claire sits up when he reaches her waist, helping him shimmy it off of her body.

She scoots back, giving him room to climb on the bed with her.

Hovering above her, his hands travel from her shoulders to her breast, his thumb grazing across her nipples, making her squirm delectably.

He bites his bottom lip, then leans down, licking one nipple while his thumb brings the other to attention. It's a practiced move, one he's done thousands of times to her, but god, the taste of her skin on his tongue never grows old.

"Jamie," she pants, her hands tangling in his red hair, tugging him back to her chest.

His lips latch on once more, drawing a moan from his gorgeous wife.

He continues down her body, nipping and sucking her curves that he loves so much, can't get enough of them in fact, no matter how old they may grow.

His shirt she was wearing is now completely removed, long since forgotten in a heap on the floor. He reaches her sweet spot, placing feather light kisses to her sensitive skin.

Her breath catches in her throat, and good—she's normally the one doing more of the teasing. He knows she tried, can smell her perfume on her skin, the one she wears when she wants him more than life itself. He can't help but to think that he has the upper hand now, after all the teasing she did between the perfume and the shirt, it's a small victory for him, at least.

Smiling to himself, he leans back, letting his fingers replace his mouth. He watches her eyes flicker close, then open, clearly struggling to focus on him as the sensations take over.

He dips a finger inside her wet heat, core clenching around him at the feeling. He pulls back just enough to release the grip, adding another finger in.

Claire sighs deeply, head lolling to the side as she watches him watching her.

He loves this, _Christ_ , he loves _her_. There's no one else in the world that can turn him to mush with just a sexy little gleam in their eyes. Hell, all Claire has to do is breathe in his direction, and he's half hard, so no wonder _this_ has him on edge already.

She licks her lips, and well, he's a weak man. He can't be away from those for too long, so he leans down, his fingers still plunging in and out, riling her up. Her juices coat his fingers as he leans down, capturing her lips with his in a heated embrace.

She lets him pleasure her for a few glorious moments, her mewling making his cock stiffen even more with each little sound.

Before long, though, she's joining in, her hand reaching down to stroke him through the fabric of his pants. "Why do you have so many clothes on?" she asks, grinning as she tugs at the waist of his pants.

She scoots back, reaching frantically for them, and while she works on removing his bottoms, he speeds up the process by removing his shirt, coming to lay atop her once he's completely naked, his clothes dumped in a pile with his shirt she'd been wearing.

Their bare chests press together, both taking a moment to savor one another. He's always loved this, her skin against his, and tonight is no different. He can feel her heartbeat against his chest, and like always, they thump in the same rhythm.

Their hands are roaming, and god, he adores the way her fingers almost tickle his skin. Her touch is so soft, so tender, and he loves it, can't get enough of it.

His fingers graze down her torso, hovering momentarily over where the bruises from her attack months ago have finally healed, and he pauses for a fleeting second, the reminder of how precious each moment with her truly is.

Claire squeezes his arms, a knowing, sympathetic smile faintly on her lips as she reaches for his scarred hand, their fingers linking together beside her head. Her eyes gloss over, just briefly, before she blinks it away. Her thumb smoothes over his once-mared fingers as she leans up, pressing her lips to his tenderly, and then the moment is gone, both of them completely focused on one another, not the painful moments of their past.

He closes his eyes, his hands finding their way back to where they were moments ago.

When she gasps, his bright blue eyes open to meet hers. She nods, that unspoken communication between them that she's ready for more.

Not one to waste time when this beautiful Sassenach is beneath him, he takes his cock in his hand, stroking it once, twice, three times before lining himself up with her core.

He looks down at Claire, lifting his eyebrows to confirm once more that she's wet enough to take him how she wants.

She gives him a soft smile, hand reaching up to cup his cheek. She scratches the scruff that's been growing there before demanding he _do it now._

God, he loves when her bossiness finds its way into the bedroom.

"Aye," he chuckles hotly, pushing his cock inside her.

She lets out a shout instantaneously, as expected, and he smirks, pulling out and plunging back in over and over again.

Claire's hands reach around his shoulders, nails digging into his back as her legs find purchase around his waist.

Her grip on his lower half tightens, and he can feel her ankles cross over one another just before she pulls him closer, deeper, begging him, "Harder, Jamie, ahh!"

Always one to listen to his beloved, he presses harder, firmer strokes inside of her. He can feel the tension building around his cock, her quim clenching around him, almost milking him for all he's worth.

"Ahh," he moans, leaning down to kiss her chest, neck, jaw, then finally her lips, "Christ, _mo nighean donn_ , _ah—_ "

He can tell she's close, and great, because so is he. He thrusts into her, hips rutting against hers, the sound of their skin slapping together as their skin slickens with sweat, turning him on even further.

Claire's grip on his shoulders loosens, her hands moving down to his biceps, grasping firmly as her upper half rises, bringing her closer to him.

She sucks in his neck, and _ahh, yes,_ that's what he needs.

He's almost there, can feel the precipice of euphoria looming in the distance, calling him to it.

"Are ye close, Sassenach?" he pants into her mouth, one hand landing on the back of her neck to hold her close while his other scours her pale, porcelain skin.

She nods, moaning her response before drawing in a deep breath. "Yes, Jamie, I'm almost there!"

Their hips move in tandem, gyrating against each other in a well practiced dance.

He knows what she likes, what she needs to take her over the edge, and she understands him just as well. They know one another like the backs of their own hands, inside and out, more than they've ever known another human being.

It's a dangerous game, really, knowing your other half's most sensitive spots, what can make them come faster than anything, because it requires so much restraint, not kissing in that spot or turning his hips _just so_ right away.

He wants to savor this, wants to make her beg for her release. And he knows this vixen of a woman wants to do the same to him.

Looking down, he watches briefly as his cock sinks back inside of her, and no, not a good idea, lest he wants to spill his seed right away.

But he's close, and so is she; she tells him she is once more, her hips grinding on his in an unbridled pattern.

He pushes further, deeper, hitting the spot _right there_ that makes her scream. She does so, too, gasping for breath as if his cock has sucked all the air out of her.

"Mmm, fuck," he groans, knowing she loves when he uses that word. It's become part of his vocabulary in the bedroom over the years, and the way she just jutted her hips up to deepen their connection drew it out of him without thought. "Yes, Sassenach, _mmm_!"

She chuckles at that, the little tease, so he thrusts into her deep, _hard_ , drawing out another yelp of pleasure from her in retaliation.

It's with a handful more thrusts that he's coming, and coming _hard_ inside of her, her walls pulsating around him as she nears her orgasm as well.

He gently slips out, and without needing direction, he reaches down, rubbing at her clit to give her just that extra bit of friction that she craves.

"Jamie, _ahh—yes!"_

His thumb rubs in circles, then he lets his finger sink inside, curling up into the spot she taught him long ago was the quickest way to make her come for him.

Like clockwork, those last few touches send her careening off the edge into oblivion. She screams, her lips clamping shut before landing on his in a heated kiss.

As he draws himself out of her, collapsing next to her, her body still vibrating with the ecstasy of their love making, he lightly trails his fingertips along her dampened skin.

He traces the lines of her body, and god what a body it is.

Jamie loves this woman so much, it would scare him had he not grown used to it decades ago. The way she consumes him is almost overwhelming, and he'd feel insane if it weren't for the knowledge that she feels the same way.

They truly do possess one another's souls.

After a few moments, their breathing returns to normal. Claire rolls over, propping her head in her hand. Her elbow is bent, resting on the bed as she looks down at him, a soft, yet knowing smile playing at her lips.

"What is it, Sassenach?"

She laughs softly, more of a breathy exhale, and she peers back over her shoulder to their pile of clothing, then back to him. "I just figured with the way me wearing your shirt turned you on that you'd want to make love _while_ I wore it."

"Aye," he chuckles, rolling onto his side. His hand lands on her hip, thumb tracing soft patterns there. "I thought about it, but couldna help myself once I started working it up and off of ye."

Giggling, she nods, leaning down to kiss his lips.

Claire taps his chest before slipping out of bed, opening the large window and letting the cool night's breeze blow in.

He watches as the moonlight dances across her pale skin, almost shimmering against it. She breathes in deeply, arms wrapping around herself as she tells him that their love making overheated her. "I need to cool off before we sleep." She laughs at herself, shaking her head.

He grins, knowing of the hot flashes she'd told him about before, and how they could strike at any moment. He'd lay freezing in bed every night if it meant she was comfortable, though.

God, even after all this time, he can't believe that she is his. His wife, his better half, his _everything._

"Ye're so beautiful, Claire," he tells her sincerely, drawing her attention back to the bed.

She smiles sweetly, padding her way over to him. She slips back onto the bed as he draws the covers over their still naked bodies.

"If tomorrow is as hot as today was, we need to enjoy this breeze while we can," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

He can feel her smile against his chest, and she nods, agreeing.

Her hands move to land in her usual spot, just above his heart, and her nails scratch lightly at his chest.

He has one hand under his head, while the other wraps around her waist, drawing her near. "Goodnight, Sassenach," he murmurs as sleep pulls him under.

He barely hears her replying in much the same manner, a groggy _I love you_ falling from his lips before the long, exhausting day, the excitement of seeing his wife in his shirt, and everything that followed suit finally hit him and he's lost to the world of dreams for the rest of the night with Claire safely tucked in his embrace.

{******************************}

The next morning, he wakes with heavy eyes, arm falling from his chest in search of her body beside him.

The bed is cold, the dip in the mattress where she's slept beside him for so many years now empty.

When he realizes she's not there, he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Looking toward her little vanity, he spots her, and his heart stops.

She's there, getting ready for the day, but damn it all to hell, she's put his shirt back on. How is he supposed to start his day when she's sitting there, like that?

He trudges himself up and out of bed, padding over to where she sits. "Damn you, Sassenach," he laughs as he makes his way over to her. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her one bare shoulder that is exposed thanks to his shirt being too large for her frame. He laughs even harder when she gives him the most innocent of all looks and simply asks, "What?"

Shaking his head, he admonishes in jest, "Ye ken what ye were doin' when you put that shirt back on, dinna lie to me."

Claire looks down then, her loose curls falling into her eyes. She makes a mock-astonished face, almost as if just now noticing she's wearing it, though he knows for a fact she knew, then shrugs, looking back up at him as if to say _So?_

Grinning, he falls to his knees in front of her, hands slowly, tantalizingly roaming up her calves to part her legs. He presses one, two, three kisses to the inside of her thighs, slowly making his way up to where he most wants to be. "This time," he states, looking up to her from where he's perched, "we leave the shirt on."

"Jamie," she chastises breathily, swatting at his shoulder, "we'll be late for breakfast."

His hands stop their perusal of her smooth skin momentarily, head turning to look at her from between her parted legs. He quirks an eyebrow up seductively, saying, "Oh, aye, but ye see, I'm havin' my breakfast now."

She spanks his shoulder again with a giggle, but doesn't seem to mind too much as she leans back, sighing contentedly as he trails his tongue up, up, _up_ to that spot he loves the most.

He peppers kisses to the skin around where she is now begging him to touch, her hips writhing beneath his hold on her. His thumbs press into her thighs, parting her legs further, creating plenty of space for him to explore.

His mouth parts, tongue peeking out to flatten against her skin as he drags it up the length of her slit, Claire panting all the while.

Her hands land on his shoulders, holding him there as she breathes out a, "Yes, _yes,_ Jamie, _mmm,_ " that spurs him on, has his tongue working her up faster and harder.

He knows they don't have much time, the bairns will be over before long with their bairns, so they need to get downstairs, but damn it all, he will not let her go unfinished.

Leaving one hand on her thigh, the feel of her skin beneath him making him hard, he uses the other to push his shirt up to her torso. He leaves her wet heat briefly, just long enough to tease, to rile her up, as he peppers sloppy kisses to the newly exposed skin. "Lean back further," he instructs, smirking as she releases his shoulders to lean back onto her palms.

He licks a path from her hip to her thighs, nipping little love bites along the way, drawing those squeaking noises from her like he's learned to do so well.

"Jamie," she pants, her chest heaving as she tries to contain the pleasure building inside.

He gives her two more well placed licks before his mouth closes around that little sensitive bud that he knows makes her squirm. His tongue pokes out, swirling around it before he's back to sucking.

"Yes, ahh!" she screams, one hand lifting to grip at his hair, pulling him closer.

If he didn't know any better, it would feel as if he was suffocating, but what a way to go this would be. She grunts for him to suck harder, "Right _there—ah!"_ so he does, his cheeks hollowing as he works her up closer and closer to her release.

Fuck, he is so hard, his cock straining against the pants he's slipped on when he got out of bed. But no, this is for her, well, and him, because this is always such a delight for both of them.

He sucks harder, faster, his tongue laving against that hard little nub, moaning into her which only seems to drive her closer to that edge of bliss she's chasing. It's with a few more well trained sucks that she's coming in his mouth, his mouth drinking her in as she coats his tongue and lips.

She's panting, trying to catch her breath when he looks up again, grinning at the way her hair is now tousled. Clearly she'd had her hands in her own hair at some point as well.

Her curls are loose, all her hair down. He hadn't given her a chance yet this morning to pull it up before he feasted upon her.

She drags a hand through it now, though, the gray strands shimmering in the morning sunlight that is now pouring into the bedroom.

God, she's beautiful. And he tells her so, bringing a shy smile to her lips.

He presses a loving kiss to the inside of her knee, then stands, reaching out a hand for her.

She takes it, his shirt she's still wearing falling back down to her knees.

Pulling her in, Jamie wraps his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers. He knows she can taste herself on his lips, and Christ, what an image that is. His cock twitches at the thought, her little moan of satisfaction not helping matters any.

"C'mon, Sassenach," he murmurs when he pulls out of their warm embrace, "let's get you out of that shirt."

Her head tilts, eyebrow lifting as she looks toward the bed knowingly.

Laughing, Jamie shakes his head, saying as much as he _wants_ that to happen, they need to actually get downstairs. "The bairns will be here soon," he announces, a bit disappointed because now all he wants to do is climb back in bed, strip her of that shirt, and have his way with her all over again.

"You're right," Claire amends, sighing as she steps into his arms once more, pressing a kiss to his neck, then his jaw. "I need to get us all fed."

A grunt vibrates from the back of his throat as he chuckles, declaring, "I've already had mine," with a smirk.

Scoffing humoredly, she steps back, her ocean blue eyes scanning down to where he knows he's hard, his cock standing at attention, begging to be touched.

Giving her a sheepish look, he shrugs, saying it'll be fine. "We can take care of it later."

Claire shakes her head, grabbing his hand and leading him back to her vanity. She pushes on his shoulders, his large frame flopping onto the bench.

He groans as he watches her sink to her knees, much like he had done moments ago to her. "We can be quick," she says with a wink, biting her bottom lip before her head lowers, ringing in this new day in the best way possible.

If this is what her wearing his shirt to bed produces, this unbridled lust they both have been experiencing since last night, then perhaps wearing his shirt to bed will become a nightly occurrence.

{***************************}

After they're both completely spent and satiated, they get dressed and make their way downstairs, ready to enjoy an ordinary day with their family on the ridge.

Once breakfast has been eaten, they all make their way outside, enjoying the sunshine while they can. The air has felt heavy lately, telling them rain was coming soon, and they wanted the bairns to run all of their energy out long before they were stuck inside.

Jamie spends the next few hours tending to things around the ridge, riding over to the Bugs' cabin to check in on them and see if they need anything.

Once returned, he mended a hole that he'd discovered on the side of the barn, taught Roger how to bail the hay, and fed the goats before making his way up to the big house.

He's standing on the porch, hands resting on the railing as he scans the land, making sure everything is alright.

"Milord," Fergus says, clapping Jamie on the back as he comes to stand beside him. "Jo and I are going out in a bit to hunt again."

Nodding, he tells his son that he hopes they have better luck today. "I'll join ye after lunch."

With a nod, Fergus turns back to watching Germain playing with Claire. They're sitting in the grass, playing with the jacks Jamie had bought him for Christmas. He grins, watching as Claire lays them out in a straight line, instructing Germain to count them. He sees the little boy's shoulders slump, but they all know the sooner he practices his counting, the sooner his grand-mére will let him play again.

Jamie looks up at the sky, then to Jemmy as he runs up the gravel path with his parents, shouting, "Granny! Granny!" and waving a stick in the air to show her.

When his eyes land back on Claire, however, he's frozen to the spot. The heat of the day has clearly gotten to her, for she's hiked her skirts up just enough to let the breeze cool her knees. Her brown boots stop just below her knee so there's really not that much skin showing, nothing to be considered scandalous, but _god_ , those knees, those thighs, the way they taunt him from between her boots and her skirt...

He takes a deep breath, trying to control the stirring in his belly, the twitching of his cock. Now is certainly not the time to get turned on, again. God, did Claire slip something into his tea last night? He can't seem to get enough of her, not that he minds, nor does she.

The sweat forming on his brow is more from the exertion of trying to keep himself in check than it is from the day's temperature, and he knows Fergus is talking, but damn it all, look at her. How is he supposed to focus on a conversation when her legs are staring him in the face like that?

Those creamy thighs tormenting him as she places Jemmy on the ground beside Germain, explaining the game to him as he begs to join in.

Christ, all he wants to do is send everyone back inside the house, ruck that red skirt of hers up to her waist and take her right there in the grass.

Fuck.

Now all he can picture is her smooth skin sprawled out on display for him in the soft grass, calling him to her, begging him to take her right then and there. The vision reminds him of long, _long_ ago, when they were newly wed and he couldn't wait to have her anywhere at any time of the day. He'd taken her right there in the glen before those English deserters had interrupted them. God, he'd been insatiable back then, and if he's being honest, he still is, always has been for her.

" _Mo dhia,"_ he breathes out in reverence, stuck in his daydream, eyes fixated on his wife.

He can see Fergus' head tilt in his direction, and oh no, he's probably giving himself away, but he can't help it. She's beautiful, and he can still taste a hint of her that he'd enjoyed this morning on his tongue, just adding fuel to the fire burning within him.

"Are you okay, Milord?" Fergus asks knowingly, a smirk firmly planted on the edges of his lips.

He knows, of course.

He can't not know from the look he's giving him.

Fergus chuckles, patting Jamie's shoulder again, saying, "I will gather the men now for the hunt, while you," his brown eyes trail over to Claire and the boys laughing together, the lower part of her thighs still exposed, "have a delightful afternoon." His brow cocks up at that, and he takes a step back, adding, "and please lock the door this time." A coy, yet reprimanding, smile blossoms on his face as he shrugs and tells him pointedly, "Germain had one too many questions the last time."

Jamie can't help the snort that leaves him, visions of weeks ago when their grandson found them together—Grand-mére bare assed on Grand-pére's desk, his ass on full display for the lad—and the sound of his mirth must've been louder than he thought, because it draws Claire's attention, her blue eyes meeting his.

Her eyes flick from him, down to her skirt, then back to him, sending a sultry smirk his way. She knows exactly what she's doing, and he just shakes his head, chuckling as she gives him a wink.

It's with that look and the bite to her lip that he just about falls apart, almost spilling his seed in his pants right there on the porch of their house.

Clearing his throat, he looks around, spotting Marsali coming out of the surgery. "M-Marsali," he stammers, walking closer to the front steps, "I was, uh, just looking for you."

"Oh, aye?" She smiles, asking, "D'ye need something?"

Jamie looks to Claire, then back to the younger blonde, coughing slightly once more. "Och, just wanted you to take the wee bairns off of Claire's hands for a moment. She seems a bit tired."

Marsali's brows furrow, giving him a confused look before peering out to Claire, but she shrugs, thankfully not questioning him too much.

She calls out to the boys, gathering them up as she runs off with them, chasing them around the house.

Claire stands, that hiked up skirt falling back into place as she comes to stand beside him. "I look tired, hm?" she mumbles into his ear, her breath grazing over his skin there, causing gooseflesh to rise on his arms.

His eyes fall to hers, and he grins, saying, "Well I couldna verra well tell the lass what I was planning to do to her ma, could I?"

Laughing, Claire rolls her eyes, wrapping her arms around his waist as her chin sinks onto his shoulder.

His arm loops around her, pulling her closer as they share a moment of peace, just the two of them. He kisses her hair, inhaling the scent that is so _Claire_ that he doesn't have any other way to describe it.

They stand there, slightly swaying together as they listen to the birds chirp and the bairns laughing. It's a beautiful sound, so calming, soothing to the soul, really, but he has other, more pressing matters on his mind right now.

"So," he declares, turning to look at her, "My shirt? Tonight?"

Claire giggles, head falling back onto his chest. She steps back, taking his hand in hers as she walks back toward the front door. "Who says we have to wait until tonight?"

Before his mouth can fall fully agape, she's got him halfway up the stairs, and while everyone else enjoys the warm sunshine outside, he'll be enjoying the heat of his wife, in _his shirt_ , instead.

End.

{*************************}

_Thanks for reading! I promise I will finish my outline for an *actual* story soon and start working on it LOL … but a little fun with our horny little Frasers never hurt anyone ;) Hope you enjoyed... please review!_

_Translations:_

_Tha feum agam oirre. A-nis. = I need her. Now._

_Mo Dhia = My God_


End file.
